


He Knew His Scent

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Animal Death, Canon Compliant, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1888194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From my earliest days as a puppy, his smell meant pain, and hunger, and softly-spoken words that did not hide the cruelty beneath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Knew His Scent

**Author's Note:**

> Written for JWP #2: Animals Animals Animals. Includes two quotes from "The Adventure of the Copper Beeches" in italics.
> 
> Warnings: Significant spoilers for COPP. Victorian-era animal cruelty and abuse. Death. Not a happy story. And absolutely no beta. This was written in a complete rush. You have been warned.

_As it emerged into the moonshine I saw what it was. It was a giant dog, as large as a calf, tawny tinted, with hanging jowl, black muzzle, and huge projecting bones.”_  
  
I knew his scent well. How could I not? From my earliest days as a puppy, his smell meant pain, and hunger, and softly-spoken words that did not hide the cruelty beneath.  
  
He was pack-leader. He bullied Toller, the one who gave me food, the one who smelled oddly at times but always acted kindly to me even when giving commands: to come out of my pen; to go in; to guard. Toller, who occasionally caressed my ears, my flank, when he thought the pack-leader was elsewhere. He smelled of horses, but never of horse-fear.  Toller, the kind one, the weak one, who feared the pack-leader but did not run, who soothed my wounds after the pack-leader finally let me be.  
  
The pack-leader shouted and growled and struck Toller when he spied him soothing the cuts and lashes the pack-leader gave me.  
  
The pack-leader dashed my food from his hands and ground it into the dirt, leaving me to hunger for days and nights on end.  
  
The pack-leader, who relished the smell of fear on others, who pretended to fear nothing, not even me. But I knew. My nose knew.  
  
“Poor Carlo,” the kind one whispered often.  “It’s wrong, is what it is, to treat an animal so, a creature who knows no evil, no hate.”  
  
The kind one, the weak one, was wrong in this, as he was wrong in so many other things. Wrong not to run from the pack-leader. Wrong to obey him. Wrong not to warn the others that came, his mate, the girl, the two strange men who smelled of curiosity and concern and the excitement of the hunt.  
  
Wrong, to think that I could not hate.  
  
I knew hate.  
  
I knew the pack-leader’s scent.  
  
I knew my chance when he ran to my cage, stinking of fear and hate and malice, and carelessly threw open my pen door.  
  
I buried my teeth into his throat and ripped into his flesh, and did not let go.  
  
Not when the screams started.  
  
Not when the shouts came.  
  
Not when one of the strange men ran towards me, stinking death-metal in his hand and deadly purpose in his gaze.  
  
I would die, but I would take the pack-leader with me into the jaws of death.  
  
It was enough.  
  
 _"My God!" he cried. "Someone has loosed the dog. It's not been fed for two days. Quick, quick, or it'll be too late!"_  
  
 _Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house, with Toller hurrying behind us. There was the huge famished brute, its black muzzle buried in Rucastle's throat, while he writhed and screamed upon the ground. Running up, I blew its brains out, and it fell over with its keen white teeth still meeting in the great creases of his neck._

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Best in Show](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1992090) by [Glory1863](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glory1863/pseuds/Glory1863)




End file.
